Winter Blooms
by perfectlyrose
Summary: John Noble bursts into Bad Wolf Floral Shop one day when running late and in desperate need of flowers, prompting a chance meeting with owner/florist Rose Tyler that has the potential to bloom into something more. (Ten/Rose AU)


Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine, as usual. Written as a Christmas present for thexlostxgirlx on tumblr :D Hope you enjoy and Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays! :D

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><p>Rose Tyler was absentmindedly rearranging the bouquets displayed behind the counter when a storm inexplicably dressed in brown pinstripes burst into Bad Wolf Floral Shop. She watched with mounting amusement as the man scurried from one display to another, muttering to himself.<p>

"Can I help you?" She asked, trying not to laugh.

His head popped up from where he was smelling an assortment of daisies to stare at her like he hadn't even realized she was in the shop.

"Donna is going to kill me if I show up without flowers," he said without preamble, eyes glued to her instead of the flowers now.

_Girlfriend_, Rose assessed after a quick glance that confirmed no wedding band on his finger. They were usually the only ones who could inspire this amount of panic in men over flowers. "Okay, what are the flowers for? Making up after an argument or somethin' else?"

"Dinner party with her coworkers that I apparently am supposed to be present at. She claims she told me I was in charge of picking up flowers since I'm not trusted to make food to bring." The man raised a hand to rub at the back of his neck, looking incredibly sheepish. The hand moved to tug on his earlobe before he continued. "I might have tuned her out before she started talking about the dinner party so I didn't know I was supposed to be doing any of this."

Rose giggled and came out from behind the counter. "Are these flowers for her or for the table?"

"Table. You're going to help?" He looked like he'd just been granted a stay of execution and Rose had to hold in another laugh.

"Course I am. Know a thing or two about flowers considering I own this place." She flashed him a tongue-in-teeth smile before getting down to business. "So you need a centerpiece. What's your price range?"

"As long as we don't go over a hundred and fifty pounds, we're good," he said, flicking his gaze up to meet her eyes after a brief detour down to her mouth.

"Okay, does Donna have a color scheme in her dining room?"

The man's eyes widened. "I have no idea? Is that important? I think it's kind of…neutral?"

"Just want to make sure that I don't put in flowers that clash with anything. If she's decorated in neutrals, I can definitely work with that." She started glancing around, taking stock of what was left in the store at the end of the day. "I'm assuming you want a vase as well?"

"Umm, yes." He watched, a puzzled look on his face as Rose ducked behind the counter to grab a vase and proceeded to walk around the room plucking flowers from different arrangements to create a new one.

"What's your name, by the way?" Rose asked as she started arranging the flowers she'd chosen in the vase.

"John Noble," he said, eyes not leaving her busy hands. "What's your name?"

"Rose, Rose Tyler." She glanced up to find his mouth already open. "Don't say anything, I've already heard every joke about a girl named Rose becoming a florist."

"Wasn't going to make a joke!" John protested.

"Were too. Everyone does," she said, smiling up at him before spinning around to grab the greens that she wanted.

"I am not _everyone_, Rose Tyler."

She shivered a bit as he caressed her name. God help his girlfriend, he was apparently a flirt. Granted, she'd been flirting too. It was hard not to when he was just her type; fit and handsome and dressed in a really tight suit. The hair that looked ruffled from someone's hands was a bonus. Plus, he seemed nice.

It was such a shame that single blokes never bought flowers. The way things went, she met all the really nice ones who were already taken.

"Be that as it may, you were still going to make a comment about my name and my profession," she replied, falling back on her warm but professional tone that she'd perfected over the past few years.

"Weeeeell, it was going to be a really good joke."

"Better save it for the next Rose you find working in a flower shop then, mate." Rose turned the arrangement a full 360 degrees, checking her work. "Alright this is done. Let me ring you up so you can get to your dinner party as soon as possible."

Once the total was given and he handed over his card to pay, he gave her a heart stopping grin and a thank you before rushing out the door in as much of a hurry as when he'd entered.

She'd included a business card with the centerpiece as she always did so maybe he'd be back.

Rose shook her head at herself. She'd known the bloke for maybe ten minutes and knew nothing about him except his name and that he was a flirt with a girlfriend and no eye for color schemes. But there was something about him…and it wasn't just the fact that she wanted to run her hands through his hair. Whatever it was, she was going to hope this wasn't the only time he darkened the door of Bad Wolf.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

John walked out of the shop in a bit of a daze and started towards Donna's house. His thoughts were full of tongue touched smiles and the blonde woman who smiled them. It had been a long time since anyone had made that much of an impression on him.

Actually, he wasn't sure he'd ever walked out of a ten minute encounter with a massive crush before. For fuck's sake, he was thirty four, a grown man! He'd grown out of crushes twenty years ago. Apparently one Rose Tyler was the exception though because this _feeling_ most definitely felt like a crush.

He kept cringing as he thought back on the encounter though. She probably thought he was an idiot. He could barely talk while he was in there and talking is one of the things he did best! He just kept staring at her, hoping he wasn't being too obvious about the fact that his heart was pounding in double time.

She'd been polite and kind and flirted a little though, so perhaps she did not mind too much that he made an fool of himself. Maybe if he went back sometime they could flirt some more.

John's mind raced ahead and was already imagining a third date when he arrived at Donna's door.

"About time you got here!" She hissed as she pulled him inside. "People started arriving ten minutes ago and I had to keep them out of the dining room because I didn't have the sodding flowers yet."

John thrust the arrangement at her in an act of self-preservation. "I have them. Look, they're very pretty. Please don't kill me."

"I don't have time to kill you until after the party, dumbo." She eyed the flowers he was holding out. "Those are actually very nice and don't clash with anything. You can't possibly have picked them out on your own."

"I'm capable of lots of things, you should stop being so surprised!"

"I know my brother and I know that you can't pick out flowers or colors to save your life. So spill, who'd you get to pick out flowers and are they coming to the party?"

A brief image of Rose sitting next to him at the table popped into his mind, followed swiftly by the thought that he might not want Rose and Donna in the same room if he was going to maintain any dignity. And hell, this was ridiculous. He didn't even know the woman and he was already imagining her meeting his only family.

Before he could answer, there was another knock at the door and Donna plunked the flowers down on the table before heading to answer it.

John was swept up in the flow of the dinner party as the last guest arrived and everyone sat down to eat. Donna was an editor at a publishing house and these people were her colleagues. Usually he would have been fascinated to hear them all talk shop since he was a writer who had to deal with this particular publishing house, but his mind was elsewhere and all questions directed towards him were answered vaguely.

Halfway through the meal, he realized that he did not remember the name of the flower shop or where it was and started panicking internally. He had to see Rose again. Not going back to the shop was not an option. Maybe if he just wandered around he could find it again…

Donna was alternating between shooting daggers at him with her eyes and sending concerned looks as his attention wandered further and further and his answers became more abstracted. She knew her brother was constantly curious, especially about the work these people did, and to see him this distracted by something was rare.

They made it through the dinner without any complete disasters and John heaved a sigh of relief as the door shut behind the last guest.

The relief was short lived as Donna started in on him immediately.

"Alright Spaceman, where the hell was your head tonight?"

"I-I," he floundered for a good excuse that did not involve flowers or florists, "I was working through a new plot point for the next Gallifrey book." He'd been stuck halfway through the draft for the fourth book in his popular sci-fi series for months and Donna knew it.

"That's complete crap. If you had an idea for your book you wouldn't have remembered to come to dinner, much less have managed to pick up flowers like you were supposed to." She eyed him, trying to figure out why he was lying. He had been odd about the flowers earlier and had stiffened when she mentioned them now. "Speaking of, who picked the arrangement? You didn't answer me earlier."

"The florist at the first shop I found put it together for me," he said with a huff, knowing there was no way to sidestep the question this time.

"The florist just dropped everything and put together a custom arrangement, a bloody gorgeous custom arrangement, for a walk-in?"

"I might have been a bit panicked. I think she took pity on me," John winced. He really, really hoped Rose had not been nice just out of pity.

Donna knew her brother's mannerisms better than he usually cared to admit and the way he was talking about this adventure to the flower shop was…off. John was hiding something. Maybe if she went about this sideways, she could actually get some information.

"I'm going to have to call this place next time I need flowers for something, then. They're incredible." She looked at him slyly, "Good thing the florist included one of her business cards."

John's heart leapt. "She did? Where'd you put it? I need that card."

Without waiting for an answer, he shot towards the kitchen and started searching the counters for where Donna might have left the card.

"Easy there! Why are you in such a rush to get the florist's card? Have a desperate need for more flowers?" She walked over to the fridge and slid the card out from under a magnet.

Her brother lunged for it but Donna was ready and kept it out of reach. "Tell me why you want it so badly and I'll give it to you."

"Donnaaaa," he whined. "Please just give me the card. I don't remember which shop I stopped at and I need to go back."

"Did you leave your wallet there or something?"

John jumped on the excuse. "Left my credit card. Was in such a hurry that I forgot to get it back from Ro- the florist."

Donna rolled her eyes. "Nice try, but you're a terrible liar." She walked closer to him. "What's interesting though is that you almost referred to the florist by her first name, the florist who created a custom arrangement just for you at the last minute, no less. Is this," she glanced at the card in her hand, "Rose Tyler special to you?"

John dragged his hand over his face. "I just met her today, Donna. I'd like to meet her again, which is why I want the damn card."

The redhead grinned triumphantly and handed the card over.

John hungrily ran his eyes over the words on the tiny piece of cardstock next to the image, printed in shiny gold, of a howling wolf.

_Bad Wolf Floral Shop_

_ Florist/Owner – Rose Tyler_

The address and a phone number were printed underneath.

He slipped the card in his pocket even though he memorized it within seconds and followed his smug sister into the sitting room, prepared to endure a night of teasing.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Bad Wolf Floral was swamped. Rose's assistant had called in sick so Rose was having to do everything herself and it was Friday. Friday's meant date night and lots of bouquets purchased from walk-ins. It also was when a lot of her deliveries went out to events.

She sent off her last delivery of the day and put on a smile as she turned around to greet a customer at the counter, mind already on how many more date night bouquets she needed to put together. She was met by a bright grin. A familiar grin.

"John! You're back!"

"Hello Rose!" He put the bouquet of daisies he'd picked out on the counter. "Donna loved the centerpiece and I wanted to come back and say thank you."

Rose felt her smile start to slip at the mention of the other woman. She couldn't let herself forget that he already had someone, no matter how much she wished she had a chance with him somehow. "You're very welcome. I'm glad she liked it." She nodded down at the flowers on the counter. "These for her, too?"

John nodded sheepishly. "I owe her."

He didn't elaborate and Rose didn't ask.

Rose glanced behind him to see a queue forming. "Sorry, John. I'd really love to chat but I do have to get back to work." She genuinely regretted that she couldn't talk to him a bit more and hoped he didn't think this was a brush off.

"Right! Well then, I guess I'll just pay for this and get out of your hair." He shot her a wink and handed over his card.

After he left, Rose kept replaying that wink and the words he'd said as he walked away, that he'd see her soon. She wanted it to be true, wanted him to come back.

And she wanted him to be single. But as that didn't seem like the case, Rose at least wanted to be friends with the man. He was obviously an incorrigible flirt but as long as they stayed in a "look, don't touch" flirtation, she didn't see the harm in it.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

John became a regular fixture in the shop. It started out as a once a week visit during a slow time. He'd lean on the counter and watch Rose create arrangements that were going out for delivery later in the day while they talked about anything and everything and flirted like teenagers with a crush.

After a month, he started dropping in twice a week.

His visits quickly became the highlight of her week. He always bought something and he always seemed to have time to talk. Rose figured he must have a job since he was able to afford all the flowers but apparently it didn't have a real schedule.

It was the end of November when Rose came down with the flu and things started to change.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

John was beginning to get frustrated.

His book was finally moving along but the florist who had unknowingly inspired the character that his plot had needed as a catalyst was a puzzle to him. She flirted with him, he _knew _she did. It wasn't just a delusion on his part, no matter what Donna implied when he showed up to her house with flowers yet again.

Rose flirted and smiled and teased and was all around lovely…but it went no further. He'd tried to hint that he would like to get coffee sometime but she always deferred or changed the subject without actually answering. There was no refusal but there was also no agreement and the limbo was driving him crazy.

John had decided Rose Tyler was a necessity in his life, no matter what kind of relationship they had. He would be fine if she just wanted to be friends, but he needed to know one way or another.

Determined that today would be the day, John donned his lucky brown suit and his trench coat and set off to Bad Wolf Floral Shop.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Rose wasn't behind the counter swaying to a song in her head as she built an arrangement. John stared at her bored assistant, trying to get the fact that _Rose wasn't there_ through his head. Rose was always there. No matter what day or time he showed up, she was always there.

"Where's Rose?" He tried not to sound panicked but the strange look her assistant gave him said he might not have succeeded.

"Sick. I'm looking after the shop so I can ring you up or whatever."

"Is she okay?"

"I just said she was sick…" the young woman repeated herself slowly.

"I know. I'm a friend though, is there any chance you could give me her address so I could check up on her?"

"How do I know you're not just some random bloke who is stalking Rose?"

"Ummm, I'm in here at least twice a week to talk to Rose. We're friends," he ran his hand through his hair frustrated, "I'm not a stalker."

"Really not helping your case, mate."

"John Noble. That's my name. Has she ever mentioned me?"

Her assistant's gaze sharpened as she ran a critical eye over John. "So you're John. Explains a lot."

John sputtered, "What does that mean?"

"Nothing," she said, smile anything but innocent. "Rose lives above the shop, Flat 2C. Think she has the flu and will be down for a week or so and her mum's out of town this week so she's riding it out on her own."

A frown crossed his face. No one should have to be alone when they're sick. "Alright, why don't you tell me what her favorite flower is and I'll go see if I can do anything to help her."

The assistant directed him to a simple bouquet of lilies, trying not to smirk at his obvious infatuation with her boss. She'd heard Rose mention him several times and knew that he was definitely not just a friend or customer to her. The teasing material she was gaining by helping John was well worth any censure she might get for setting him on Rose while she was sick.

John paid for the lilies and headed out of the store. He had a few stops to make before going to Rose's flat.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

John was balancing the flowers and a bag full of supplies in one hand as he knocked on the door to 2C. It took a couple minutes but soon, the door swung open to reveal one, very ill, Rose Tyler.

"John? Wha' are you doin' here? How did you find me?" Rose looked extremely confused. She was thinking this had to be a fever dream. It was the only explanation for John standing in the door of her flat holding a bouquet of her favorite flowers.

"Your assistant told me where to find you and that you were sick. Thought I would bring by some things to make the flu more bearable." He grinned at her, "Can I come in?"

She gestured him inside and collapsed on the couch in the sitting room as he started towards the kitchen, apparently making himself at home.

"Is there a vase somewhere that I can use for these flowers?"

"On top of the fridge." She thought for a moment, trying to make her brain work through the haze of the fever. "Did you buy me flowers from my own shop?"

"Yes," he said, appearing in front of her, flowers in hand. "Would you have preferred if I bought them somewhere else?"

Rose shook her head. "You should probably go, though. Wouldn't want to get you sick. That would be an awful reward for you trying to be nice."

"I have a fantastic immune system, Rose Tyler. Now, let's get you back to your bed so you can rest."

He helped her back to her room, tucked her into bed and then disappeared. When he reappeared, it was with the vase of lilies in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He set both on her nightstand and vanished once more.

"Rose, I need you to drink this please."

His voice woke her up. Maybe he wasn't vanishing, maybe she kept drifting out. Concentrating, she swallowed some of the water he was trying to give to her before sliding back down to a completely horizontal position.

"Okay, that's good. I'm going to leave this glass here so you can drink some more next time you wake up. There's also some soup in the fridge for when you feel up to it. I'm going to run to my flat to grab my laptop and then come back to keep an eye on you, if that's okay."

"Yeah, that's brilliant," she rasped out.

John brushed his hand over her cheek, wincing at the heat she was radiating. "I'll be right back. You get some sleep."

He was halfway out the door when he heard her mumble something else.

"What was that?"

"Said your girlfriend is lucky to have you," she repeated sleepily.

John shook his head as he walked out. She must be really sick if she thought he was seeing anyone. He thought he'd made it very obvious that he was wooing her and he couldn't do that if he had someone else in his life. He would make sure to set her straight when she was coherent again, though.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The next time Rose remembered waking up, John was right there to give her water and medicine. It was a cycle that lasted for an indeterminate amount of time. Whenever she was awake, he was there though.

Finally the fever broke and she woke up to him sitting in a chair next to her bed, typing away at something on his laptop.

"Hello," she said after a few moments of watching him.

"You're awake," John replied softly, setting aside his laptop to lean forward and put the back of his hand against her forehead. "And not feverish anymore! Think you could handle some soup?"

"What kind?"

"Chicken noodle, of course! What else would you have when you're sick?"

She giggled. "Yeah, alright. I think I could do with some soup."

He shot up and headed for the kitchen. It was a few minutes before he returned with a tray and a steaming bowl of soup that he lay on her lap.

John watched intently as she devoured the soup and Rose started to feel self-conscious. She'd been in bed for days at this point and probably looked horrid.

"So, have you been here the whole time I've been sick?"

"Went home to change clothes and grab a shower a few times, but other than that, yeah." He smiled, "Someone had to take care of you."

"Thanks, John. Really. It was incredibly sweet of you to put your life on hold to take care of a friend that you barely know, really."

"Well, it was hardly a sacrifice. Plus, I'm always willing to get to know you better, Rose. You should know that by now."

Rose felt herself blushing. They were getting into dangerous territory again and she had to remind herself that there was still a girlfriend in the picture and he didn't really mean what he said in the way she wished he did.

"What have you been working on while I've been asleep?" She asked, nodding at the laptop on the floor.

John frowned at the deflection but let her steer the conversation away from what he wanted to discuss. "I'm a writer. Have I told you that?" He saw her shake her head. "Well, I am. Working on a new novel and your flat is as good a place to write as any."

"What kind of stuff do you write?"

"Sci-fi, mostly." He considered for a moment before continuing. "Have you ever heard of James McCrimmon?"

"Have I heard of him? I own all of his books in hard copies and have read them multiple times! You write stuff like that?"

Warmth shot through John as she gushed over McCrimmon's books. He was James McCrimmon, or rather James McCrimmon was his penname. Only his sister and the head of the publishing company knew that though. It only took a moment's consideration for him to let Rose in on the secret as well.

"Actually, I am James McCrimmon. That's the name I publish under. I'm working on the next Gallifrey novel right now."

Rose goggled at him. "I'm still having fever dreams or somethin'. There's no way you're James McCrimmon."

"I am!" John protested. He pulled up the document he was working on and thrust the laptop at Rose.

Her eyes took in the page he was writing, featuring the Time Lord protagonist who had been in his last few novels.

"You're James McCrimmon. I've been friends with James McCrimmon for a couple months and didn't even know it." She narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm going to demand that you sign all my books, just so you know."

He grinned, "That's fine. Never knew you were a fan!"

"Lots of things you don't know about me, John," she said with a smile. "I'm still in shock, to be quite honest. Got any other news you want to drop on me while you're on a roll?"

John paused. "Well, there is one thing you mentioned while feverish that I wanted to be sure to set straight."

Rose paled. There was no way she would have mentioned her crush while feverish, was there? She was going to die from embarrassment if that is what he was talking about.

"You mentioned something about me having a girlfriend and I just wanted to make sure you knew I didn't have one. I realized that I'd never come out and said that, but I figured it was obvious since I was visiting you all the time." The words came out in a rush, as he finally said some of the things he'd been wanting to for weeks. "I was hoping you would realize that I was ineptly wooing you and agree to go on a date or something but you never seemed completely interested."

Rose just gaped at him. "What do you mean you don't have a girlfriend? You're always talking about Donna and buying flowers for her!"

John couldn't help it, he started laughing.

"What?" she asked, feeling left out of whatever joke he apparently found so funny.

"Donna's my sister, Rose, not my girlfriend." He sobered as he realized something. "Does this mean you've been pulling back all this time because you thought I was seeing someone? I've been waiting on you all this time."

"How is this my fault?" Rose teased, heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. "You kept coming in and buying flowers, I assumed you had a lover!"

"Just someone I wanted to be my lover. She happens to work at the flower shop though so I had to settle for buying flowers from her instead of for her."

Rose laughed. "I can't believe we've wasted all this time because of such a simple misinterpretation." She was beaming at him. "I really want to kiss you right now, John Noble. Your timing sucks."

"I believe I told you I have a very good immune system," he said quickly.

"Yeah, but you've waited this long. You can wait until I'm feeling better and have brushed my teeth recently."

"I suppose, but as soon as you've got a clean bill of health I'm cashing in on this rain check." John couldn't believe his luck. Rose wanted to kiss _him_. This was actually happening.

"You better," Rose said.

They both grinned at each other, bright as sunshine. The seeds that had been planted at their first meeting had finally sprouted, despite the chill of winter outside. Rose and John were certain that this _thing_ between them, the thing they were both too afraid to label just yet, was going to bloom into something as beautiful as the flowers Rose sold.


End file.
